Saturday, October 1, 2011

In The Moment: Gratitude

I listened to Melinda, yesterday, speak of a transcending moment -- one of those moments of clarity that arise, seemingly, out of the ethosphere: god and physics and the collision of science and faith and the notion of we-are-a-single-organism and we only exist right at this moment, right now. No past, no future, everything flowing and rippling simultaneously. I recall the word hallelujah being spoken, and we discussed religion and the existence of god or a god, and trying to define a notion of "god".

The bookkeeper arrived and dove right in, told about having belonged to a theosophical society at one time. This stuff fascinates me.

We often converse like this -- in the midst of a certain level of chaos -- a million tasks all screaming for attention simultaneously. I don't quite remember how many orders I packed and prepped for the UPS pick-up, but there seemed to be a constant going in-and-out, up-and-down stairs from house/factory to garage/studio, the locking and unlocking of doors, the hefting of unwieldy boxes. The careful wrapping of delicate glass pieces so that they won't break in shipping while attempting to keep shipping costs down -- a constant challenge, and something which I puzzle over daily, because glass inevitably breaks, in spite of the utmost care. And then there's the re-imagining of recycled gin/whiskey/tequila boxes into suitable shipping containers. (One must conceal any reference to alcohol on the exterior of the box.)

At one point in the day a heavy binder slipped onto the computer keyboard and activated "voice-over" (what the?) and suddenly a male voice was narrating every key stroke that Melinda made:

"You are pressing the shift key. You are now in a window. You are scrolling down...."

On and on. And oddly, the voice speeded up, and Melinda couldn't figure out how to turn it off. I began to laugh, of course, and suggested she google "turn off voice-over" and she did, all the while with this narration blaring at her. I descended into one of my laughing fits with tears streaming down my cheeks. So absurd! I half expected the voice to scold me for laughing and (according to reports) drooling on the keyboard. (I contend it was a hilarity-tear.)

But to focus back on the subject I intended to write about here, I received an email from my friend Candy this morning with a link to this TED video. I so love when the theme continues, from unconnected sources! (But then again, we're all connected....)

Thanks for this T - the high and the hilarious. Bless Mr. A V-O! I'm waking up to the idea that there really is no such as 'ordinary' - only extraordinary. The so-called mundane carries within it all the ingredients of the sacred? And laughter. . . to laugh till we cry till till we laugh. . . yes!L, C xo

"What is the meaning of life? That was all — a simple question; one that tended to close in on one with years. The great revelation had never come. The great revelation perhaps never did come. Instead there were little daily miracles, illuminations, matches struck unexpectedly in the dark. . . . "—Virginia Woolf, To The Lighthouse"Like other poets, I am often asked if I have a spiritual practice. Yes, writing is my spiritual practice."— Alicia Ostriker

"The trick, Gloria thought as she experienced near-whiplash at the revelation, was to keep the level of believing in magic constant."—Marylinn Kelly

"Everywhere I go I find a poet has been there before me."—Sigmund Freud

"...and following the wrong god home we may miss our star."—William Stafford

"I am in love with the world.""—Maurice Sendak

“I live my life in widening circles that reach out across the world.” —Rainier Maria Rilke"Writing means revealing oneself to excess."--Franz Kafka"There isn't enough of anything as long as we live. But at intervals a sweetness appears and, given a chance prevails. " --Raymond Carver"Someone I loved once gave mea box full of darkness.It took me years to understandthat this, too, was a gift. "--Mary Oliver"In the middle of the journey of our lifeI found myself in a dark wood,For I had lost the right path.And so we came forth, and once again beheld the stars." --Dante Alighieri